[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-the-shadow-empire":3,"chapter-the-shadow-empire-the-shadow-empire-chapter-978":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","The Shadow Empire",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2268598,4428,"Chapter 978","the-shadow-empire-chapter-978",978,"\u003Cp>Lans stood in the suite on the hotel’s rooftop, watching police cars and horse-drawn carriages scream past the city below, along with running officers, barely sensing a thread of tension in the air.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“A portion of refugees have already gathered outside the city; the few roads leading in have been sealed off by police—only exits are allowed, no entries.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ma Duoer stood behind Lans, reporting the situation outside.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he was Lans’s personal bodyguard, he also took on part of the responsibility for directing operations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans brought so many people here partly to ensure his own safety.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And partly to make the situation even more chaotic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Has the army joined in?” Lans asked without turning around.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not yet.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans said nothing, continuing to stare at the distant horizon—the boundary between city and wilderness.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His eyes couldn’t reach that far, only catching blurred shapes; he couldn’t distinguish the crowds waiting to enter, nor even make out the houses clearly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But he could imagine the dire conditions beyond the city’s edge.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Chaos” had taken hold; the only thing that could save this nation now was President Diego—these ruling elites must step forward and arrange food shipments from elsewhere to calm the people.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But they did nothing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The problem isn’t that people can’t afford food—though some truly can’t—it’s that food simply isn’t available; money is useless.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans heard grain prices had already climbed to over two pala per pound—not because they rose too fast, but because there was simply no supply.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>What characterizes a seller’s market?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Buyers keep raising their bids just to secure a transaction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You offer one pala, I offer one point one, then someone else offers one point two.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Whenever supply and demand are unequal, it always manifests in extreme price fluctuations.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as capital drives prices down in a price war to monopolize the market—because supply exceeds demand, prices hover near cost, sometimes even below it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The reverse is equally true: when many people want a commodity and only higher bids secure it, like an auction.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From one point three to two pala, it took less than three days—and still, no one could buy grain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those who held grain—those hoarding far more than they could consume—fantasized prices would rise further; selling now clearly wasn’t the right time.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those without food could only come to Zolan and hope for luck.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lans watched from the window for a moment. “Get the men moving. If the refugees don’t storm the city, how will the conflict between ruling and ruled classes take root so quickly?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>After speaking, he turned and sat back on the sofa beside him, fixing his gaze on Ma Duoer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ma Duoer walked to the phone by the wall and dialed a number.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though Lapa was poor and backward, telephones still existed here.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ordinary people used public phone booths—hundreds of households on one street shared one or two.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Only the middle class, the privileged, the ruling elite, had the right to install telephones in their homes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The call was quickly answered; Ma Duoer relayed Lans’s message and hung up immediately.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He returned to the corner, lifted his water cup, and took a sip; his emotions had shifted in a way he couldn’t explain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had once been a soldier, accustomed to life and death, convinced he’d never again be moved by such matters.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet in this moment, he realized he wasn’t as strong as he’d imagined.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At the city’s edge, some of Lans’s men had donned clothes only locals wore—each wearing a peaked cap, brim pulled low. Though their faces were still visible, if you didn’t pay attention, you wouldn’t remember them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You’d only remember the different peaked caps.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside the city gates, many refugees had gathered, families in tow, each looking worse than the last.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Anyone who’d gone days without food looked shriveled, hollowed out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A few police cars and horses stood on the road, their barricades raised, barring entry into the city.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Facing the desperate pleas of ordinary people, the police remained unmoved, standing at the front, clubs in hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Police represented the most basic violent tool of the ruling class; in Lapa’s people’s minds, they still carried some deterrent power.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Please, let us in!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“My son hasn’t eaten in two days—if we don’t get food, we’ll starve to death!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A woman stepped forward from the crowd, stopping about a meter from the police barricade.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She needed food—her child was too weak to walk, and might starve tomorrow, or the day after.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Her husband had died in a mine accident; the mine owner paid them three thousand pala for his life.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As a woman, she tried to claim more compensation, but soon others urged her to drop it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some respected figures, even her own family.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They said her husband had collapsed the mine shaft, costing the owner a fortune; if not for their family losing its breadwinner, they wouldn’t have given her three thousand at all—they’d have demanded compensation from her.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the end, she buried her husband’s ashes beside the road, bought with those three thousand pala.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now she was about to lose her child too—she couldn’t lose her child again!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She pleaded desperately, hoping only for her child’s chance to live—but her only answer was police indifference.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing her too close, one officer barked, “Fall back! Stay away from the barricade!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hand clenched tight around his club, yet the woman still begged, “Please, let us in to buy food—we’ll leave right away.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The officer felt his face burn; when his colleagues glanced his way, he felt his cheeks flush with shame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He grew furious—a disobedient commoner, a commoner defying his order!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He swung his club hard, smashing it into the woman’s forehead. Though wrapped in rubber, the blow split her temple open.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A contusion, not a laceration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such wounds heal poorly—the edges are jagged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With a scream, the woman collapsed. She stared at the officer in disbelief—she hadn’t crossed the line; she only wanted to buy food.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She sat on the ground, mind blank—whether from the hopelessness of her future or the blow that had shattered her thoughts, she couldn’t tell.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The officer glared at her, venomous. “Last warning—get back to the crowd!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The woman was too terrified to react.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>To the officer, this silence was silent defiance—an insult!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He couldn’t bear it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>For years, Lapa’s people had lived like animals without rebellion, perfectly tamed—or perhaps just accustomed to this oppressive rule.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even now, facing death, though they’d begun to change, before the traditional power of the ruling class, they reverted to who they’d always been.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>All they could do was protest.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They watched from a distance as the officer bent over the barricade, club in hand, approaching the woman.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A tragedy was about to unfold, yet the crowd stood numb, as if none of it concerned them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The officer raised his club high—just as the woman braced for the blow, Pedro pushed through the crowd.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He’d come to Zolan with his family; his city had no food left. Originally, there’d been a river outside, full of fish.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But within two days of the famine, the river was emptied.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Think about it: once rumors spread that river fish could fill stomachs, thousands—perhaps tens of thousands—rushed to the banks with homemade tools.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In a short time, every fish was wiped out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hunger’s force is destructive; people don’t just want to eat one meal—they plan for the next, and the one after.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The catastrophic overfishing left the river barren, even the fry gone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Worse still, what Pedro feared most had happened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The potatoes in the fields outside the city—planted from seed tubers—had all been dug up.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>People knew sprouted potatoes were poisonous, but they knew how to process them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In just one week, everything had changed drastically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They had no choice but to come to Zolan with the rest, hoping for luck—staying in the city was meaningless now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Along the way, nearly every edible thing had been devoured; with nothing left, they’d begun chewing bark, eating leaves.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing the officer about to beat the poor woman again, Pedro’s sense of justice could no longer hold him back—he stepped forward.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“She only wants to buy food for her family!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The officer turned his gaze to Pedro, his face flushed crimson.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another one dared oppose him—humiliating him in front of his men; he didn’t need to look back to imagine their mocking stares.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He clenched his lips and strode toward Pedro; Pedro stepped back nervously, raising a hand in protest. “I only ask you not to harm an ordinary woman!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the officer no longer listened—he felt his dignity insulted; only by crushing these people could he stand tall again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He swung his club full-force at Pedro. As a teacher—not a physical education teacher—he couldn’t dodge; he could only cover his head and take the blow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Piercing pain flooded his body—he felt as if a club had bitten him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The pain forced a scream from him—Ahh!!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The numb crowd watched, as if none of this had anything to do with them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The officer raised his club again. Pedro refused to endure more passive beating—he shoved the officer hard, glanced at the woman slumped on the ground, sighed, and turned to run.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The people had no spirit; he couldn’t force it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Perhaps it wasn’t the right time yet.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He thought to himself.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The officer, staggered by the shove, felt his honor crushed—he charged after Pedro again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this time, his luck ran out.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Several young men surged from the side and beat him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As they moved, they shouted loudly, “Since we’re doomed anyway, let’s fight these officials!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some of their words were incoherent—police weren’t officials—but they had shouted out enough.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These words stirred some in the crowd; their dull eyes flickered with change.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro stood there, turning to watch the young people charging out, studying their appearance and attire, and a quiet stir rose within him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The police behind the cordon froze for a moment, then lifted the barrier and charged forward with batons; the second wave of youths rushed in and clashed with them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The numb crowd began to stir; there had never been many police here to set up roadblocks—only about twenty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Now half of them were tied up, and some in the crowd began to think.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>They weren’t planning to join the youths in fighting the police—they intended to slip in amid the chaos.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The police behind also noticed the disturbance; they blew whistles and drew their batons, rushing toward this spot.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before a dozen police officers, at least hundreds were restrained, not daring to move.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>At that moment, Pedro suddenly raised his arm. “Go into the city, eat your fill, and fight them!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He charged forward first. He didn’t hear footsteps behind him, and he felt a pang of disappointment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soon he collided with the police; two officers swung their batons hard at him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He had never trained in combat; he could only react instinctively, then strike back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>More than twenty people surrounded a dozen, beating them—including Pedro.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But gradually, the atmosphere began to shift.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Some in the numb crowd, watching them get beaten, no longer looked indifferent or gleeful—their eyes now held a spark.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Emotional waves triggered impulsive decisions; several youths ran toward the police locked in struggle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One officer noticed this and pointed his baton at the youths. “Fall back!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tactic that had always worked now failed utterly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The youths didn’t retreat—they swung their fists and struck him hard!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pedro turned and saw this scene; a faint smile appeared on his face. He suddenly realized—this might be what Lans meant by “awakening.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>From numbness… to resistance.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1936,"2026-06-19T21:10:31.886Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","10aa7741f5a52544987a36e6fa6e20031f97121452ebfbac288b557328fc7ae5","the-shadow-empire-chapter-979","the-shadow-empire-chapter-977",1000,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fthe-shadow-empire-cover.jpg"]